Ouija B
by Lingering Lilies
Summary: Every year on the night before Halloween, Brittany and Santana dust off an old Ouija Board in hopes of learning something about the year ahead.


A/N: I've been feeling the Halloween spirit earlier than usual this year, so this story just kind of happened. I know there's a Ouija Board movie coming out soon and it looks awful and scary. This story is nothing like that. I guess it kinda contains spoilers for season 6, but not really. Nothing concrete. Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.

If you don't know what a Ouija Board is, look it up first or this story won't make sense.

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Ouija B<strong>

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><p>"Are you ready?" Brittany asked, leaning into the bedroom she and Santana shared now. She was bouncing on her heels, unable to contain her girlish enthusiasm about their pre-Halloween ritual.<p>

"No," Santana grumbled from where she sat hunched over a desk in the corner. "I hate doing this."

Brittany pouted and Santana's scowl grew deeper. She felt manipulated.

"It's never gone badly," Brittany said. "I always follow the rules."

Santana let out an impatient sigh. "So far."

"C'mon, baby. Don't kill my Halloween buzz."

"Halloween is tomorrow," Santana snipped.

"Someone's grumpy," Brittany remarked.

"It just creeps me out. You know I don't wanna mess with voodoo or spirits or whatever."

"It's not voodoo," Brittany said. "It's science."

Santana huffed and stood, walking into their small living room Brittany had furnished with garage sale findings.

Brittany had placed at least a hundred candles around the room. Santana was pretty sure that many candles in such a small room should be illegal. She felt hot and suffocated already. She just wanted to get this over with.

"Ready?" Brittany asked as she turned off the lights.

Santana sat stiffly on the floor in front of the Ouija board, thinking that she was never ready for their tradition.

It had all started when they were twelve. Brittany and Santana had found themselves alone the night before Halloween with nothing novel to entertain themselves. Brittany, clad in jack-o-lantern pajamas with her hair in braids, had ventured into the attic to find something to do and stumbled upon an old Ouija board. When she presented it to Santana, she was grinning over her braces, which her orthodontist had put black and orange bands on a week before at Brittany's request.

"Britt, have you seen _Jumanji_?" Santana had asked, glancing down at the old Ouija board.

"No. Do you want to watch it? Cuz I'd kinda rather play with this Ouija board."

Chilling at the memory of the sleepless night that had followed viewing _Jumanji_, Santana shook her head. "No. I'll tell you the moral of the story: don't play weird games you find covered in dust in someone's attic. It never ends well."

"But it was just a movie," Brittany said.

"I'm just saying maybe re-watching _Hocus Pocus_ isn't a bad idea," Santana said, trying to sound tough.

Brittany gripped the Ouija board box tighter in her hands and screwed her lips up over her braces. "I'll make you a deal. You help me ask the board three questions, and then we can watch _Hocus Pocus_."

Santana huffed. "Fine," she said. "But you have to make popcorn to eat while we watch."

"You got it," Brittany said, grin spreading.

They trudged down the stairs to the den, where Brittany set up the Ouija board on the carpet, placing two pillows on either side.

She sat down on a pillow, looking up at Santana expectantly. Santana rolled her eyes and sat down on the other. She didn't like considering the afterlife. Real life was scary enough for her.

Brittany closed her eyes and put her fingertips on the indicator. Santana followed suit, not bothering to close her eyes.

Brittany took a deep breath, then asked in a deep, dramatic voice. "Is anyone there?"

The room was motionless for a moment. Seeing the hopeful look on Brittany's face, Santana paused to consider that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to speed their game along. She delicately pushed the indicator to hover over where it said _Yes_.

Brittany opened her eyes to see where the indicator had stopped. A grin spread across her face and she whispered, "I knew it."

Happy to see Brittany satisfied, Santana kept her eyes open again as Brittany closed her eyes.

"Are you here from the afterlife?" Brittany asked.

Santana glanced down at the board and back to Brittany's hopeful, focused face before gently sliding the indicator to the spot on the board the said _No_.

Santana didn't want to fuel any of Brittany's ghost theories. Using the Ouija board seemed like a reasonable way to do that.

Brittany opened her eyes and looked down at the board, puzzled. Her brow crinkled for a moment before she closed her eyes again and adjusted herself on her pillow. "If you're not here from the afterlife, who are you?" she asked.

Santana didn't know how she was going to respond to that on the Ouija board. She didn't want her pushing to become too obvious. If she were to spell out something like _Your Mom_ or _Lord Tubbington's colon_, Brittany would figure out she was pushing it.

But she found she didn't have to. The indicator started sliding, and she wondered for a moment if her hands were putting too much pressure on the temperamental indicator. She lightened her touch to avoid revealing her meddling.

But the indicator kept sliding. It slid from where it had rested on _No_ all the way to the letter _B_.

When it stopped, Brittany opened her eyes.

"B," she said. "I wonder who B is."

Santana frowned, wondering why Brittany was pushing the indicator now when she hadn't the first two times. Then the indicator started moving again, coming to rest on the letter _P_.

"BP," Brittany murmured. "Those are my initials."

"Because you were pushing it," Santana said, impatient with Brittany's fascination with this childish game.

"I'm not," Brittany said, looking offended at the suggestion.

"Whatever," Santana said, glad the game was over. "Let's watch _Hocus Pocus_."

"I wanna ask one more question," Brittany said.

"You agreed on three questions and then we'd watch," Santana objected.

"Just one more," Brittany insisted. "We didn't get any cool answers yet."

Santana huffed and reached forward again. "Fine," she grumbled.

Brittany placed her fingers next to Santana's and closed her eyes again. "Can you give us any advice about how to get through the rest of sixth grade?" Brittany asked.

Unsure what to help the Ouija board tell Brittany, Santana didn't push the indicator. It stayed motionless where it had stopped on the letter _P_.

After at least thirty seconds of silence, Santana withdrew her hands. "Guess not even ghosts want to think about how awful middle school is," Santana grumbled. "Movie time."

Brittany sighed, seeming dejected as she put the board back in its box. Santana was relieved that Brittany was done with that game. She didn't like anything to do with the occult. It was just too risky.

No sooner had they settled on the couch, the doorbell rang.

"Are you expecting someone?" Santana asked. She felt a little miffed. This was supposed to be their night together. If Brittany had invited Quinn, she would be pissed.

"No," Brittany said. "Would you mind getting it? I have to pee."

Santana got up and walked into the foyer, hoping Mr. Pierce had called to order them a surprise pizza or something.

But when she opened the door, Brittany was standing on the doorstep wearing overalls.

"Hey!" Brittany chirped.

Utterly confused, Santana looked behind her. She thought she'd heard the door of the hall bathroom close just seconds before.

"Why did you change into your overalls?" Santana asked, frowning. "How'd you get on the porch?"

Brittany looked behind her, gesturing to the walkway. "I just walked up. Looks like dad wasn't using the weed killer as often as he should. Though I guess it makes the house look a little spookier."

"Um, okay," Santana said. "Let's start the movie."

"Oo, what are we watching?" Brittany asked.

Santana paused. Brittany had put the DVD in just minutes before.

"_Hocus Pocus_," she said, frowning.

"Oh, yay," Brittany said. "I love that movie."

"Yeah, it's good." She didn't add that it wasn't too scary. Brittany knew that. That's why she'd picked it. "Britt, what are you doing on the porch?"

"Oh," Brittany giggled. "I didn't want to scare you guys, so I figured ringing the doorbell would be the least... you know, spooky." She stepped inside, and Santana closed the door behind her.

"Britt, we're the only ones here," Santana said.

"I know," Brittany said, "That's why I figured it'd be safe to show up."

Confused, Santana frowned. Had Brittany taken too much of her allergy medicine again?

Just then, Santana heard the hall bathroom door open. Brittany's voice called from down the hall, "Santana, who was at the door?"

Santana went icy. How had she heard Brittany's voice from down the hall?

And then Brittany appeared in the foyer, wearing the same braids and jack-o-lantern pajamas she had been wearing earlier.

Santana's eyes darted back and forth between the two Brittanys before her. Then she started burning.

"Britt, this isn't funny!" she spat. "Stop it!"

But when Santana looked at the face of the Brittany who had just emerged from the bathroom, she saw she was stunned into silence.

Porch-Brittany seemed to understand that she needed to explain herself.

"Don't worry," she said, stepping closer to them. The sudden invasion only served to put Santana more on-edge. "I'm not here to mess with you guys. Really."

When both Santana and Hallway-Brittany didn't respond, Porch-Brittany held up her hand. "Pinky-swear," she said, offering her hand to Santana.

Reeling, Santana's instinct was to run to Brittany for reassurance. But given that there were two Brittanys before her, she didn't know which one to run to.

After a moment, Hall-Brittany finally spoke. "Whoa," she said.

Porch-Brittany gave little laugh. "I know, right? It's okay. I was worried I'd scare you guys. But you called, so I figured it'd be rude not to show up."

"We didn't call," Santana said.

"Yeah you did," Porch-Brittany said, looking confused.

After a nothing moment of tense silence, Hall-Brittany said, "The Ouija board."

Brittany wearing overalls snapped her fingers and pointed at Pajama Brittany. "You got it," she said with a grin. "I like your style, Me-from-last-year."

"Wait, what?" Santana gasped. "You're her from last year?" She pointed between the Brittanys in mounting confusion. Now that they were standing on the same level, she could see that the Brittany who had just stepped through the door was slightly taller than the girl in the hall. She didn't have braces, either.

"From _next_ year," Taller-Brittany said. "If I were Me from last year, you would have known I was coming because you would have visited yourself- er, myself - already once. I can only hang out for a little bit because I don't want to keep Future Me waiting too long in Quinn's attic."

"Why are you in Quinn's attic?" Braces-Brittany asked. "I mean, why am I in Quinn's attic?"

"Waiting for Future You," Porch-Brittany said, as though it was obvious. "It's kind of a thing you do every year now."

Confused to the point of tears, Santana looked back and forth between the two girls before her. They both seemed to notice at the same time how distressed she was.

"Hey, it's okay," Overall Brittany said, stepping toward Santana.

Santana flinched away, untrusting. She shivered and tried not to whimper in fear.

"Can you give her a hug?" Overall Brittany asked Pajama Brittany.

Slightly more trusting of Pajama Brittany, Santana allowed herself to be drawn into a hug by the shorter version of her best friend.

"It's gonna be okay," Braceless-Brittany said. "I promise. I mean, I kinda know for a fact it's gonna be okay. A year from now you'll be in Quinn's guest room listening to Rihanna's new album."

That got Santana's attention. "Rihanna's putting out a new album?" she asked, eager to hear something unrelated to her present situation.

Taller Brittany covered her mouth, looking worried. "I wasn't supposed to say that."

"Wasn't supposed to say what?" Santana said.

Overall-Brittany sighed. "I'm not supposed to tell you anything specific about the next year. It could mess with the space-time continuum, which we're already jeopardizing by talking to each other. I can only tell you general stuff. Mostly that you're gonna be okay." She turned to Brittany. "Us too, obviously."

Present-Brittany gave Future-Brittany a sage nod, as though she wasn't surprised to be reassured by herself.

"We only have a few minutes," Future Brittany said. "Did you guys wanna ask me anything? No details that could change the future, just general stuff."

Santana knew she should seize the opportunity to glean any information she could from Future Brittany, but she was too thrown to think of anything non-specific that might be useful.

Pajama Brittany seemed to have more clarity. "So we can ask you anything? Like which teacher we're gonna get and which cafeteria food to avoid?"

Taller Brittany screwed up her face in contemplation. "Not really," she said. "I mean, I can tell you that you're not gonna have any problems with your teachers and that cafeteria food in general is bad."

"What about me?" Santana asked. Given her temperament, it seemed unlikely she'd have an uneventful academic year as far as her teachers.

"Um," Brittany said, looking around. "You're mostly fine too."

"_Mostly_ fine?" Santana asked, ratcheting up again. "What does _mostly_ fine mean?" She stepped toward Taller Brittany, trying to intimidate her into giving her details.

"I can't tell you," Brittany said, trying not to cower. "Don't get mad at me for following the rules. I'd tell you if I could." She gave a familiar pout and Santana backed down. "But really, anything that happens won't matter after a week or two. Promise."

Santana was about to launch into a rant about how pointless this visit was if Future Brittany couldn't tell them anything, but Taller Brittany spoke up again.

"I guess I can tell you one thing."

"Ooo, what?" Pajama Brittany said, excited.

"You're gonna find out tomorrow anyway," Taller Brittany said. She giggled, as though she was very pleased to be gossipping with them. "Noah gets pedicures with his mom."

Pajama Brittany cackled in delight.

"I saw him there last week," Santana said. She would have tried to sound annoyed or unimpressed if she hadn't been so frightened. She looked back and forth between the Brittanys, who were looking at her in amusement. She hadn't told Pajama-Brittany that tidbit yet. She was saving it for… she wasn't sure what, but she was saving it for something good.

Future Brittany gave her an impish smile. "I guess you were saving that. Or maybe you haven't told Younger Me yet because you have a crush on him."

"_Gross_," Santana said, wrinkling her nose. "He's so… _short_." It was the only thing she could think of to say.

"Santana, he's taller than you," Pajama Brittany said.

Sensitive about her height, twelve-year-old Santana scowled. Whatever reason she had for not sharing Noah's secret, it was definitely not because she had a crush on him.

"Okay, well I gotta go," Overall-Brittany said. "Next year just use the board to call me. I'll come find you in the attic."

"Cool," Younger Brittany said, smiling and playing with her braid. "Thanks for coming."

"Anytime," Older Brittany said. "Well, not any time. I can only visit myself the night before Halloween. There's a small gap in time I can hop through without too much trouble."

"Awesome," Younger Brittany said. "I can't wait to figure that out."

"It's simple," Older Brittany said. "Okay, I gotta get back before Quinn comes to find me. Bye!"

"Bye," Brittany called after her, waving as she watched herself walk out the door.

Santana, still in shock, watched it with a look of stunned confusion.

"Well that was pretty cool," Brittany said. "Glad to know my prototype pans out."

"Prototype?" Santana asked.

"I can't tell you," Brittany said.

Santana winced. She'd been hearing that phrase a lot tonight.

Realizing how unsettled Santana was, Brittany put her arm around her friend. "Let's watch the movie," she said quietly. "I'll put the Ouija board in the attic until next year and make some popcorn."

Wanting nothing more than to sink into the Pierce's couch and be distracted from all the confusion, Santana headed for the den, wrapping a blanket around herself and lying on her side.

As she lay there, her thoughts spun out on how freaky her encounter with the two Brittanys had been. Maybe she was going insane. Maybe someone had it out for her. Maybe she was being haunted by a demon who could assume Brittany's form and lure her into a bad situation. She felt so disconnected from reality, she wondered if anything around her could be trusted.

Brittany came back from returning the game to the attic and making popcorn and saw Santana shivering on the couch. "Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

Santana tried to nod, but found she couldn't. She was paralyzed with fear.

"Hey, hey," Brittany cooed, rushing toward her. "Everything's fine."

"Everything's not fine," Santana said, her voice shaking.

"Yeah it is. I told us everything was fine."

Santana didn't respond, only kept shivering, no matter how tightly she pulled the blanket around her.

After a moment of watching Santana shake, Brittany crawled between Santana and the back of the couch, wrapping her arms around Santana and squeezing.

"It's okay," Brittany said. "I got you."

Eventually, Santana settled down enough to suggest they start the movie. She didn't object to Brittany holding her through the whole thing, or when Brittany assumed the same position in her bed that night. Santana had a hard time falling asleep, worrying there was something out there that had it out for her. But knowing Brittany was with her made it slightly less scary.

And thus began the tradition of being visited by Brittany's future self on the night before Halloween.

The next year, as predicted, Brittany came to visit herself in Quinn's attic while Santana sat in Quinn's guest room, pretending to sulk over Noah kissing someone else at recess when really she was too scared to accompany Brittany into the attic while Quinn checked on the cupcakes in the oven.

In eighth grade, after being assured that it had been fun and illuminating the year before, Santana agreed to summon Future Brittany with Present Brittany again. Future Brittany showed up in a cheerleading outfit, which made Present Brittany grin from ear to ear. But what Santana noticed most of all were her boobs. Santana wasn't able to stop staring before Future Brittany noticed. Future Brittany looked down proudly, giggling, "Finally, right?" She give Present-Brittany a wink, then looked back at Santana. "Don't worry, you've got another growth spurt coming too." Santana looked down at her chest, thinking that, yeah, her beginner boobs were nice, but she could stand to go up a cup size or two. She began to warm to the idea of meeting Future Brittany once a year. She briefly toyed with the idea of summoning her future self, but decided against it. She didn't think she'd be able to handle knowing if she made any regrettable decisions regarding her appearance.

Cheerleader Brittany was especially smug, glancing between Santana and Brittany as though she knew something they should really want to know. That had aggravated Santana. What did Future Brittany know that they didn't yet? Why was she being so smug about it?

A few weeks later when she and Brittany hooked up for the first time, she wondered if maybe that was it.

The following year, to reassure herself that everything was normal, she pressured Future Brittany to tell her if either of them had boyfriends. Santana could see Future Brittany resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she said, "You know I can't tell you that." Santana tried again, but Brittany was impenetrable.

Future Brittany got more and more cryptic as they got older. Some years she was happy and babbling about all the cool technology and music they had to look forward to. Other years she spent more time asking them questions. Santana found it odd that Brittany From The Future would dwell so much on the past. She supposed Brittany - in any incarnation - was just nostalgic.

Santana was relieved that their distance and tension about her staying in the closet didn't fall around Halloween. By the time Halloween rolled around the next year, they were together, blissfully wrapped around each other on the couch. Santana was eager to see Future Brittany, to see if her outfit or demeanor gave any indication of what the coming year had in store for them now that they were finally a couple.

But Future Brittany showed up looking pale and sad, unable to meet Santana's eyes. She stood in stark contrast to the joyful version of Brittany that Santana was snuggled up to. Future Brittany was quiet, not saying much. Santana thought she saw her wiping her eyes a few times as she gave her usual non-specific pep talk, but Santana wasn't sure. Right before Future-Brittany turned to go, she looked back at Brittany and Santana wrapped up in each other and said in a quiet, mournful voice, "Just love each other as much as you can, okay?"

That put Santana on-edge. She had made so much progress with accepting herself - holding hands under the napkin and all - but she still hated to think of all the pain she'd put Brittany through. Seeing that Brittany appeared even worse off a year down the line, she started to panic.

As soon as Sad Brittany left, Santana exhaled. "Britt, I don't like this," she said. "It's freaking me out."

Brittany had soothed Santana as best she could, assuring Santana that Future Brittany was probably just upset over not getting into her first choice sorority or Lord Tubbington slipping back into old habits.

Santana, foolishly, let herself be soothed.

But when the next Halloween rolled around and Santana found herself alone in Kentucky missing Brittany so much her chest physically ached, she understood. Future Brittany hadn't been allowed to warn them about the outing or the breakup. She hoped that wherever Brittany was, she was being visited by a happier and more lively Brittany than the one she'd last seen as she left the choir room.

Once they'd gotten back together - an event facilitated by Future Brittany's strong recommendation that Brittany go after what was important to her - Brittany had re-introduced the summoning ritual slowly. Santana always hid while Brittany summoned her future self. Once Present-Brittany was certain Future-Brittany wouldn't scare or sadden Santana, she'd coax her out like a frightened kitten, eager to show Santana that her future self was happy and healthy, proving she would not only survive the coming year, but flourish in it. They'd sit and talk politely about current events, always having to curb their curiosity about the particulars of the coming year. Having taken Econ 101, Santana considered asking in a roundabout way if there were certain stocks she should invest in. But she knew that was against the rules. She could only ask for non-specific advice. One year Future Brittany advised them to give up complex carbohydrates. Santana objected, even if she hadn't found the perfect breadstick in NYC yet. When nothing eventful related to carbohydrates happened in the following year, Santana figured it had just been one of Brittany's many nutritional phases.

This year, Santana had agreed to take part in the entire summoning ritual. Now that they had their own apartment and she'd had a decade to get used to the ordeal, she felt she ought to be able to handle it. She sat on the floor with Brittany, putting her hands on the Ouija board indicator. Brittany took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she began her usual dramatic incantation. "Brittany Pierce, it's Brittany Pierce. I'm calling you for our yearly chat. Our address is-"

"Britt, she knows our address," Santana cut in, hoping Brittany would tone down the theatrics. The candles were enough.

Brittany opened her eyes and gave Santana a disapproving frown. She took another breath, centering herself before closing her eyes again. "You know where to find us," Brittany said, less dramatic now. "We'll be here all night."

Santana expected a clap of thunder or a sudden downpour of rain to follow Brittany's incantation, but it never did. They sat in the quiet of their living room. If the candles hadn't been casting eerie shadows, it might have been romantic.

They sat in the dark for a while, Santana's stomach in knots. The only noises were rain and the faint noise of cars out on the street. Always impatient to get the ritual over with, Santana looked at the clock.

"Maybe she wants food," Brittany said after a few minutes. "I should make popcorn."

Santana didn't respond, watching as Brittany got up to put popcorn in the microwave. It whirred on and Santana listened to each pop, their crescendo amplifying her nerves. Brittany poured it into a bowl when the pops died down, then brought it back into the living room. She offered the bowl to Santana, who shook her head in refusal.

When Brittany had eaten half the bowl on her own, Santana looked at the clock and saw it had been fifteen minutes.

"Okay, I'm officially worried now," Santana said.

"It's only been fifteen minutes," Brittany said with a shrug.

"You always show up right away!" Santana argued. "You wouldn't leave us hanging."

"Maybe I got caught up at a cool party. Maybe I had a costume malfunction I had to fix."

Skeptical, Santana waited another ten minutes before she got up to pace around the living room.

"I told you we shouldn't do this," she said. "You've warned us every year not to mess with the space-time continuum."

"I never tell us anything concrete," Brittany said. "I follow the rules."

Santana started shaking. "What if there's a reason you're not showing up?" she said, growing frantic. "What if- what if you're in the hospital or in a coma or - or - _dead_, or-"

"Shhh," Brittany hushed, realizing that Santana was becoming hysterical over her lack of appearance. She got up to try to stop Santana's pacing. "Baby, I'm fine. Don't get all worked up."

"How can I not get worked up?" Santana said, fighting against Brittany's arms. "We know something's going to happen in the next year that will prevent you from coming to see us. You've _never_ missed it before, even before you could drive, even when we were broken up and you knew seeing us cuddling and kissing would be torture for you, even when you had to travel to _Greece_ to meet us…" Santana started panting, quickly escalating to hyperventilating as she fought to keep pacing around the room. "I can't lose you! Not after everything we've been through! Things are finally good, and now because of this stupid ritual I know that you're gonna be gone-"

Brittany grabbed Santana with all her strength and squeezed her until she was almost choking. Santana stopped gasping for breath and started crying hysterical tears into Brittany's neck.

Brittany was worried too. Obviously she wasn't keen on possibly dying in the next year, but she could only control what was happening directly in front of her. She focused on Santana.

"Baby, I'm right here," Brittany said. "Maybe it's time we stopped relying on Future Me to tell us everything will be okay. Maybe we should start believing Present Me."

Unable to entertain Brittany's optimism, Santana kept blubbering into Brittany's shirt.

Brittany ran through the events of that night, wondering if she had summoned herself incorrectly. She remembered setting up the candles and the board, then coaxing Santana out of their room to summon her future self. As she ran over what had transpired, she remembered the precise wording of how she'd summoned herself.

Santana was still crying into her when Brittany realized her error.

"Baby, I want you to try something for me, okay? Something that might help."

Santana wiped her face, looking at Brittany as though she might have to say goodbye to her at any moment.

"I want you to help me ask the board one last question."

Santana recoiled. "I'm never touching that thing again," she spat. "Not after it _took you away from me_…" She started squeaking and crying again and Brittany wasn't sure if she was still saying words or just whimpering.

"Baby, it's not the board's fault," Brittany cooed. "It's just a communication tool."

"I hate it," Santana blubbered.

Knowing it was a risky move, Brittany said, "Well, if I'm going to die in the next year, don't you want to make sure every last wish I ever have comes true?"

Santana looked up at Brittany with a look of fear and anger. She knew Brittany was manipulating her, and she didn't like it.

Of course, Brittany's ploy _did_ work.

"I promise this is the last time we'll ever use it," Brittany said. "You can dispose of it in any way you like afterwards."

Teary, Santana nodded and slumped down onto her pillow. There was nothing she could do to change the future. She might as well make Brittany happy while she could.

Brittany settled onto her pillow across from Santana with a muted yet impish smile on her face. She reached forward and put her fingers on the indicator. Santana, still looking scared and hopeless, placed her fingers next to Brittany's.

For the first time, Brittany kept her eyes open as she spoke.

"It's Brittany Pierce again." She paused, considering how to best phrase the next part of her question. "I know you can't tell us specifics about the future, but when I summoned Brittany Pierce before, no one showed up. I guess I'm just checking in to let you know that if I go by a different name in the future, we'd still like to see me."

At that, Santana paused. She looked at Brittany, whose eyes were open but fixed sheepishly on the carpet. What did Brittany mean, 'If I go by a different name in the future'? Why would she ever be anything but Brittany Pierce?

Just as realization hit, the doorbell rang.

Brittany's face broke into an uncontainable smile. She still didn't meet Santana's eyes, rising shyly to answer the door.

Santana was left speechless on the floor. As she heard Brittany open the door and greet herself, she filled with overwhelming relief and joy and panic. All the things she had ever wanted for herself were going to happen sooner than she thought.

She heard the two girls whispering in the hallway, footsteps away from stunning Santana twice-over with their beauty and wisdom. From the sound of it, Brittany was pleased with the size and cut of the diamond. She took a deep breath, preparing herself.

All that was left was to figure out how and when she was going to propose. The rest, she knew, was unchangeable.


End file.
